The Adventures of Elvendork
Harry
The day they were to leave, Harry went round to Celeste's to say goodbye. He was greeted quite fondly by her on the door and she led him inside to see the others.
At the table, along with Mandy, Lizzy, and Cora, Celeste's cousins were sitting. Louis, a fifteen-year-old, and Leo, a sixteen-year-old. They both went to Beauxbatons with Celeste, too. Mrs. and Mr. Stacey were very kind, and he enjoyed their company for an hour before he stood to leave.
"Goodbye, then, Miss Stacey. I hope to see you again."
Celeste smiled at him. "The pleasure was all mine, Mr. Potter. I'll make sure to write."
They had been dating for two weeks now, and he found that he quite liked Celeste. He was kind of sorry to be seeing the last of her. She seemed upset too, but they had decided to write occasionally. Harry's and Jéricho's birthdays this time would not be celebrated in Hogwarts, on the fourth.
So that was it.
They left that evening, and Jéricho, Sirius, and James sat with him in his bedroom at midnight.
"So, Harry," Sirius started, "Let's start with you. What's your form?"
Yes, they had been working on their Animagus transformations for several months, since when they were in Hogwarts. They had gone more in-depth on their trip when the four of them disappeared on occasion. Now they were ready. The final stage.
Harry just grimaced. "It's kinda embarrassing... a grim dog, like yours, Sirius."
There was silence for a minute before Sirius snorted and turned to James, who looked utterly mortified. "A galleon, Prongs."
"B-but-" James spluttered, "My heir cannot not be a stag!"
Jéricho snorted, "Not making sense."
"You are, Jéricho?" James shot. "Not a bloody dog, I warn you."
"No, relax. I'm much cooler. A panther." James and Jéricho shared a grin as Harry and Sirius huffed.
"Can you transform yet?" Sirius asked.
Harry slowly nodded and closed his eyes in concentration. He felt something strange as if he was changing - which he was - and when he opened his eyes his vision and hearing were sharper, and he looked up to see the others staring in awe.
"He looks just like you!" James exclaimed. "Just shorter and more groomed, with green eyes."
Harry quickly changed back. "That was wierd."
"Don't worry, you'll get used to it." James soothed him.
Sirius whistled. "Your turn, Ech!"
And Harry watched on in wonderment as Jéricho's limbs shrank a bit and his body changed... There was now a sleek black panther standing there, staring with shimmering silver eyes. It was beautiful; his body had sparkling silver stripes.
"Merlin!" Sirius breathed, taken in by its beauty too. "You're... you're magnificent, Ech!"
Jéricho turned back, a bit embarrassed. "Yeah..."
"You are." James nodded. "Brilliant!"
The next day, Harry and Jéricho entered the train quickly and practically bounced with excitement as they waited for the others. Soon enough, Sera, Adrian, and Cedric joined them.
"So, did you complete your transformations?" Sera asked.
Harry nodded. "We'll show you at midnight, just show up at the edge of the forest. But yes, I'm a dog like Sirius, a bit shorter. Jéricho's a panther."
"I'm an owl." Sera bit her lip blushing.
Harry raised an imaginary toast to her. "The epitope of wisdom, Miss Greengrass."
"I'm a snake," Adrian smirked.
Cedric rolled his eyes. "Of course you are, your royal snakiness. I'm an innocent kuala."
"Cool!" Harry leaned forward. "You know, I saw one this summer-"
"Yeah, how was your trip?" Fred suddenly asked, entering the compartment with George. "Australia, eh?"
"Yep." Harry nodded. "It was great fun!"
"More like great romantic." Jéricho scoffed. "Couldn't keep his eyes off Celeste Stacey."
The twins smirked and Adrian and Cedric 'ah...'d' "You dog!"
"Yes, I am." Harry drily replied.
"Oh?" Sera questioned. Her tone was strange. "Celeste Stacey?"
Harry nodded excitedly and ranted, "Yeah, she's absolutely brilliant. She's half-American, goes to Beauxbatons, and was visiting Australia with her relatives and friends, living in said relatives' villa. It's awesome, with a pool and everything. And Louis and Leo are older than us by a year and two. They're nice enough, I suppose. Her friends were slightly annoying, though. Mandy, Cora, and Lizzy. They study at Salem Witches' Institute."
"We went to Darling Harbour and Millers Point together," Jéricho added. "She's nice. Harry dated her for two weeks."
The boys were wolf-whistling and congratulating him, while Sera looked on with a strange expression which Harry didn't much pay attention to. In all their excitement, they didn't notice anything wrong...
Charles
On the platform, Charles got prepared to go after Lyra when a voice surprised him. "Charles!"
Ron was there with his whole family, grinning at him. Charles called back, "Ron!"
They both hugged each other and Charles smiled at Ginny. "Hey, Gin. Ready to go to Hogwarts?"
Ginny blushed lightly but steeled herself and nodded. "Yep."
Charles raised an eyebrow at Ron. Ginny had always been strangely tight-lipped around him, going as red as a tomato whenever he talked to her, and ran off. It was frankly the first time she had answered properly. Ron told him in an undertone that she was slowly getting over her celebrity crush on him.
Ron and Charles let the rest of the Weasley family go ahead of them before both of them bent low over the handles of their trolleys and walked purposefully toward the barrier, gathering speed. A few feet away from it, they broke into a run and...
CRASH.
Both trolleys hit the barrier and bounced backward; Ron's trunk fell off with a loud thump, Charles was knocked off his feet, and Hedwig's cage - his owl gifted to him by Hagrid - bounced onto the shiny floor, and she rolled away, shrieking indignantly; people all around them stared and a guard nearby yelled, "What in blazes d'you think you're doing?"
"Lost control of the trolley," Charles gasped, clutching his ribs as he got up. Ron ran to pick up Hedwig, who was causing such a scene that there was a lot of muttering about cruelty to animals from the surrounding crowd.
"Why can't we get through?" Charles hissed to Ron. "I dunno -"
Ron looked wildly around. A dozen curious people were still watching them.
"We're going to miss the train," Ron whispered. "I don't understand why the gateway's sealed itself -"
Charles looked up at the giant clock with a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. Ten seconds ... nine seconds ...
He wheeled his trolley forward cautiously until it was right against the barrier and pushed with all his might. The metal remained solid.
Three seconds . . . two seconds ... one second ...
"It's gone," said Ron, sounding stunned. "The train's left. What if our parents can't get back through to us? Have you got any Muggle money?"
And they marched off through the crowd of curious Muggles, out of the station, and back onto the side road where old Elvendork was parked.
Suddenly Charles had an insane idea and cried, "Elvendork!"
Ron blinked at him dumbly. "Mate, did you hit your head or something?"
Charles urgently shook his head. "No, I mean... Elvendork is Sirius' motorbike, Ron! We can ride it to Hogwarts!"
Ron's eyes lit up but then dimmed again as he frowned. "Do you even know how to ride the thing? Besides, what if someone sees us?"
Charles shook his head. "It has an invisibility option... and of course, I know how to ride it! Now, get in the side car." Traffic was rumbling along the main road ahead, but their street was empty.
"Okay," Ron said said.
After pressing a tiny silver button, Elvendork around them vanished - and so did they. "Let's go."
In seconds, the whole of London lay, smoky and glittering, below them. Then there was a popping noise and Elvendork, Charles, and Ron reappeared.
"Uh-oh," Charles jabbed at the Invisibility Booster. "It's faulty -"
Both of them pummeled it. The motorbike vanished and flickered back again.
"Hold on!" Charles yelled, and he slammed his foot on the accelerator; they shot straight into the low, woolly clouds and everything turned dull and foggy.
"Now what?" Ron asked, blinking at the solid mass of cloud pressing in on them from all sides.
"We need to see the train to know what direction to go in," Charles said. "Dip back down again - quickly -"
They dropped back beneath the clouds and twisted around in their seats, squinting at the ground.
"I can see it!" Ron yelled. "Right ahead - there!"
The Hogwarts Express was streaking along below them like a scarlet snake.
"Due north," Charles said, glancing at the compass. "Okay, we'll just have to check on it every half hour or so - hold on."
And they shot up through the clouds. A minute later, they burst out into a blaze of sunlight.
It was a different world. The wheels of Elvendork skimmed the sea of fluffy clouds, the sky a bright, endless blue under the blinding white sun.
"All we've got to worry about now are airplanes," said Ron.
They looked at each other and started to laugh; for a long time, they couldn't stop.
It was as though they had been plunged into a fabulous dream. This, Charles thought, was surely the only way to travel - past swirls and turrets of snowy cloud, in a car full of hot, bright sunlight, with a fat pack of toffees in the glove compartment, and the prospect of seeing Harry's jealous face when they landed smoothly and spectacularly on the sweeping lawn in front of Hogwarts castle.
They made regular checks on the train as they flew farther and farther north, each dip beneath the clouds showing them a different view. London was soon far behind them, replaced by neat green fields that gave way in turn to wide, purplish moors, a great city alive with cars like multicolored ants, and villages with tiny toy churches.
Several uneventful hours later, however, Charles had to admit that some of the fun was wearing off, and his arms and back were starting to pain, and his thumb was raw and red. The toffees had made them extremely thirsty and they had nothing to drink. He and Ron had pulled off their sweaters, but Charles' T-shirt was sticking to the back of his seat and his glasses kept sliding down to the end of his sweaty nose. He had stopped noticing the fantastic cloud shapes now and was thinking longingly of the train miles below, where you could buy ice-cold pumpkin juice from a trolley pushed by a plump witch. Why hadn't they been able to get onto platform nine and three-quarters?
"Can't be much further, can it?" croaked Ron, hours later still, as the sun started to sink into their floor of cloud, staining it a deep pink. "Ready for another check on the train?"
It was still right below them, winding its way past a snowcapped mountain. It was much darker beneath the canopy of clouds.
Charles put his foot on the accelerator and drove them upward again, but as he did so, the engine began to whine. He and Ron exchanged nervous glances.
"It's probably just tired," Charles said. "It's never been this far before..."
And they both pretended not to notice the whining growing louder and louder as the sky became steadily darker. Stars were blossoming in the blackness. Charles pulled his sweater back on, trying to ignore the way the windshield wipers were now waving feebly, as though in protest.
"Not far," said Ron, more to the car than to Charles, "not far now," and he patted his seat nervously.
When they flew back beneath the clouds a little while later, they had to squint through the darkness for a landmark they knew.
"There!" Charles shouted, making Ron and Hedwig jump. "Straight ahead!"
Silhouetted on the dark horizon, high on the cliff over the lake, stood the many turrets and towers of Hogwarts Castle. But the motorbike had begun to shudder and was losing speed.
"Come on," Ron said cajolingly, "nearly there, come on -"
The engine groaned. Narrow jets of steam were issuing from under the hood. Charles found himself gripping the handlebar very hard as they flew toward the lake. Elvendork gave a nasty wobble. Charles saw the smooth, black, glassy surface of the water, a mile below. Ron's knuckles were white, gripping the edge of his seat tightly. Elvendork wobbled again.
"Come on," Ron muttered.
They were over the lake - the castle was right ahead... There was a loud clunk and a splutter, and the engine died completely.
"Uh-oh," said Ron, into the silence.
The nose of the motorbike dropped. They were falling, gathering speed, heading straight for the solid castle wall.
"Noooooo!" they both yelled, swinging the bike around; they missed the dark stone wall by inches as the car turned in a great arc, soaring over the dark greenhouses, then the vegetable patch, and then out over the black lawns, losing altitude all the time.
"STOP! STOP!" Charles shouted, but they were still plummeting, the ground flying up toward them.
"WATCH OUT FOR THAT TREE!" Ron bellowed, but too late.
CRUNCH.
With an earsplitting bang of metal on wood, they hit the thick tree trunk and dropped to the ground with a heavy jolt. Steam was billowing from the damaged bike; Hedwig was shrieking in terror; a golfball-size lump was throbbing on Charles' head where he had hit the ground; and to his right, Ron let out a low, despairing groan.
"Are you okay?" Charles said urgently.
"My wand," said Ron, in a shaky voice. "Look at my wand -"
It had snapped, almost in two; the tip was dangling limply, held on by a few splinters.
Charles opened his mouth to say he was sure they'd be able to mend it up at the school, but he never even got started. At that very moment, something hit Elvendork with the force of a charging bull.
"What's happen-?" Ron gasped, staring behind him, and Harry looked around just in time to see a branch as thick as a python smash into it. The tree they had hit was attacking them. Its trunk was bent almost double, and its gnarled boughs were pummeling every inch of the bike it could reach.
"Run for it!" Ron shouted, but the engine suddenly restarted. Elvendork was still alive!
"Come on!" Charles yelled as he and Ron straightened it and sat on their seats, and the car shot backward; the tree was still trying to hit them; they could hear its roots creaking as it almost ripped itself up, lashing out at them as they sped out of reach.
"That," panted Ron, "was close. Well done, Elven-"
Elvendork, however, had reached the end of its tether. With two sharp clunks, Charles and Ron were blown away. The next thing they knew was that they were sprawled on the damp ground. Loud thuds told them that Elvendork was ejecting their luggage; Hedwig's cage flew through the air and burst open; she rose out of it with an angry screech and sped off toward the castle without a backward look. Then, dented, scratched, and steaming, Elvendork rumbled off into the darkness, its rear lights blazing angrily.
"Come back!" Charles yelled desperately after it. "Elvendork, please! Pads will kill me!"
But the motorbike disappeared from view.
Lyra
Lyra looked around the Great Hall, searching for Charles who she'd yet to see since she'd stepped on the train. He had been behind her, but then Ronald had arrived... Neither of them were present. And it was hard to believe Ronald would deliberately miss his sister's sorting...
Well, her attention was diverted as she watched the first years enter, but there was a lurking worry, still...
Ginny
Ginny couldn't believe it. Hogwarts was magnificent! She'd sat with a boy named Colin Creevey on the train, who'd been a rather mousy yet nice muggleborn, who, like she herself used to, hero-worshipped Charles Potter.
She's told him that he was close with her family, and best friends with her older brother. He'd insisted on meeting them, so she'd taken him through the train in search of Ron and Charles but could find neither of them. She'd asked Harry, who'd been sitting with Fred and George, who'd said that he didn't know.
Colin had been fascinated by the twins ability to complete each other's sentences and thoughts, and he'd been even more in awe of Harry, who he'd started asking, "How is it living with a celebrity for a younger brother?"
Fred had snorted and told him that Harry was a celebrity in his own rights at Hogwarts, and Colin had been star-struck. Harry had just sighed and shooed them off.
At the moment, Ginny was nervous and irritated. Nervous at the sorting, and irritated Ron who had yet to arrive. She listened to people's names being called. Colin was sorted into Gryffindor, and she cheered for him. At last, it was her turn, and she walked up to the stool and sat down, jamming the hat on her head.
"Hmm..." a voice said in her head. "Another Weasley, I see. A girl in generations... Proud, yes, you are. And you want to prove yourself... that you're not just another nameless Weasley in a crowd of redheads... that you're unique, yes, and that you can be better than your brothers... I can see that, while you have plenty of courage, Gryffindor may not be the best choice for you."
Ginny frowned. "Why? Where will I fit then?"
"Somewhere you may achieve something... ambition, yes... clever, too... I can sort you properly, if you'd allow me to place you in not Gryffindor, but..."
"Slytherin?"
"Yes..."
Ginny was stuck. No matter what Ron said, she never had had a problem with Slytherin. Lyra was like her sister, and she was a snake. Even her friends were nice. And the idea of standing out did sound appealing... but the way she'd be treated there... and did she have what it took to break family tradition of generations?
"As I said, miss, you are quite courageous." the hat hummed.
"Alright."
"Then you belong in... SLYTHERIN!"
It was hollow silence that met Ginny's ears as the hat was taken off her by a stunned McGonagall, who was quick to regain her composure. Only Lyra alone was clapping, the sound ringing out clearly. Ginny shot her a grateful smile before standing up. She looked at her brothers at the Gryffindor table as if challenging them to say anything. To her surprise, however, Fred and George jumped up and started cheering, followed closely by Harry, and then their friends from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Lyra's friends also joined in with Percy clapping stiffly along.
Ginny turned to her new house table and walked towards it, studiously ignoring the looks of disgust she was getting from some. Instead, she took a seat near the edge where first years sat, not too far from Lyra who grinned at her.
"Welcome to Slytherin, Ginevra."
Charles
Meanwhile, blissfully unaware of this new twist, Charles and Ron were trekking towards the school. It wasn't at all the triumphant arrival they had pictured. Stiff, cold, and bruised, dragging their trunks up the grassy slope, toward the great oak front doors.
"I think the feast's already started," said Ron, dropping his trunk at the foot of the front steps and crossing quietly to look through a brightly lit window. "Hey - Charles - come and look - it's the Sorting!"
Charles hurried over and, together, he and Ron peered in at the Great Hall.
Innumerable candles were hovering in midair over four long, crowded tables, making the golden plates and goblets sparkle. Overhead, the bewitched ceiling, which always mirrored the sky outside, sparkled with stars.
Through the forest of pointed black Hogwarts hats, Charles saw a long line of scared-looking first years fiIing into the Hall. Ginny was among them, easily visible because of her vivid Weasley hair. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall, a bespectacled witch with her hair in a tight bun, was placing the famous Hogwarts Sorting Hat on a stool before the newcomers.
A very small, mousy-haired boy had been called forward to place the hat on his head. Charles' eyes wandered past him to where Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, sat watching the Sorting from the staff table, his long silver beard and half-moon glasses shining brightly in the candlelight. Several seats along, Charles saw Gilderoy Lockhart - the newest idiotic defense professor, as Sirius put it - dressed in robes of aquamarine. And there at the end was Hagrid, huge and hairy, drinking deeply from his goblet.
"Hang on... " Charles muttered to Ron. "There's an empty chair at the staff table... Where's Snape?"
"Maybe he's ill!" said Ron hopefully.
"Maybe he's left," Charles countered, "because he missed out on the Defense Against Dark Arts job again!"
"Or he might have been sacked!" said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him -"
"Or maybe," said a very cold voice right behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you two didn't arrive on the school train."
They spun around. There, his black robes rippling in a cold breeze stood Severus Snape. He was a thin man with sallow skin, a hooked nose, and greasy, shoulder-length black hair, and at this moment, he was smiling in a way that told them that they were in very deep trouble.
"Follow me," said Snape.
Not daring even to look at each other, Charles and Ron followed Snape up the steps into the vast, echoing entrance hall, which was lit with flaming torches. A delicious smell of food was wafting from the Great Hall, but Snape led them away from the warmth and light, down a narrow stone staircase that led into the dungeons.
"In!" he said, opening a door halfway down the cold passageway and pointing.
They entered Snape's office, shivering. The shadowy walls were lined with shelves of large glass) ars, in which floated all manner of revolting things Charles didn't want to know the name of at the moment. The fireplace was dark and empty. Snape closed the door and turned to look at them.
"So," he said softly, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Charles Potter and his faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a bang, did we, boys?"
"No, sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it -"
"Silence!" said Snape coldly. "What have you done with the motorbike?"
Charles frowned. How did he know...? But a moment later, he understood, as Snape unrolled the day's issue of the Evening Prophet.
"You were seen," he hissed, showing them the headline: FLYING MOTORBIKE MYSTIFIES MUGGLES. He began to read aloud: "Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old motorbike flying over the Post Office tower ... at noon in Norfolk, Mrs. Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing ... Mr. Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police... Six or seven Muggles in all. I believe your father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?" he said, looking up at Ron and smiling still more nastily. "Dear, dear ... his own son. . . And the son of Auror Potter..."
Charles felt as though he'd just been walloped in the stomach by one of the mad tree's larger branches. If anyone found out Sirius had bewitched Elvendork... he hadn't thought of that...
"I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow," Snape went on.
"That tree did more damage to us than we -" Ron blurted out.
"Silence!" snapped Snape again. "Most unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall go and fetch the people who do have that happy power. You will wait here."
Charles and Ron stared at each other, white-faced. Charles didn't feel hungry anymore. He now felt extremely sick. He tried not to look at a large, slimy something suspended in green liquid on a shelf behind Snape's desk. If Snape had gone to fetch Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House, they were hardly any better off. She might be fairer than Snape, but she was still extremely strict.
Ten minutes later, Snape returned, and sure enough, it was Professor McGonagall who accompanied him. Charles had seen Professor McGonagall angry on several occasions, but either he had forgotten just how thin her mouth could go, or he had never seen her this angry before. She raised her wand the moment she entered; Charles and Ron both flinched, but she merely pointed it at the empty fireplace, where flames suddenly erupted.
"Sit," she said, and they both backed into chairs by the fire. "Explain," she said, her glasses glinting ominously.
Ron launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the station refusing to let them through. "-so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on the train."
"Why didn't you send the school - or your parents - a letter? I believe you have an owl?" Professor McGonagall said coldly to Charles. He gaped at her. Now she said it, that seemed the obvious thing to have done.
"I - I didn't think -"
"That," said Professor McGonagall, "is obvious."
There was a knock on the office door and Snape, now looking happier than ever, opened it. There stood the headmaster, Professor Dumbledore.
Charles' whole body went numb. Dumbledore was looking unusually grave. He stared down his very crooked nose at them, and Charles suddenly found himself wishing he and Ron were still being beaten up by the Whomping Willow.
There was a long silence. Then Dumbledore said, "Please explain why you did this."
It would have been better if he had shouted. Charles hated the disappointment in his voice. For some reason, he was unable to look Dumbledore in the eyes, and spoke instead to his knees. He told Dumbledore everything except that Sirius owned the motorbike, making it sound as though he and Ron had happened to find it parked outside the station. He knew Dumbledore would see through this at once, but Dumbledore asked no questions about the car. When Charles had finished, he merely continued to peer at them through his spectacles.
"We'll go and get our stuff," said Ron in a hopeless sort of voice.
"What are you talking about, Weasley?" barked Professor McGonagall.
"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?" said Ron.
Charles looked quickly at Dumbledore.
"Not today, Mr. Weasley," said Dumbledore. "But I must impress upon both of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to both of your families tonight. I must also warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."
Snape looked as though Christmas had been canceled. He cleared his throat and said, "Professor Dumbledore, these boys have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree - surely acts of this nature -"
"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on these boys' punishments, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility." He turned to Professor McGonagall. "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking cus tard tart I want to sample -"
Snape shot a look of pure venom at Charles and Ron as he allowed himself to be swept out of his office, leaving them alone with Professor McGonagall, who was still eyeing them like a wrathful eagle. "You'd better get along to the hospital wing, both of you, you're bleeding."
"Not much," said Ron, hastily wiping the cut over his eye with his sleeve. "Professor, I, uh, wanted to watch my sister being sorted-"
"The Sorting Ceremony is over," said Professor McGonagall. "Your sister is, unfortunately, not in Gryffindor."
Ron blinked twice. "What? Where's she sorted then?"
"Slytherin."
Ron made a shocked choking noise at the back of his throat. "Is this a joke?!"
"I'm afraid it's not. And speaking of Gryffindor -" Professor McGonagall said sharply, but Charles cut in, "Professor, when we took the car, the term hadn't started, so - so Gryffindor shouldn't have points taken from it - should it?" he finished, watching her anxiously.
Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look, but he was sure she had almost smiled. Her mouth looked less thin, anyway. "I will not take any points from Gryffindor," she said, and Charles' heart lightened considerably. "But you will both get a detention, seeing as you'll likely be punished by your parents and, I dare say, Mr. Black."
Charles flinched. That much was true.
Professor McGonagall raised her wand again and pointed it at Snape's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets, and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared with a pop. "You will eat in here and then go straight up to your dormitory," she said. "I must also return to the feast."
When the door had closed behind her, Ron let out a long, low whistle. "I thought we'd had it," he said, grabbing a sandwich. Charles agreed, taking one, too.
"Can you believe our luck, though?" said Ron thickly through a mouthful of chicken and ham. "Why did Muggles have to spot us?" He swallowed and took another huge bite. "Why couldn't we get through the barrier?"
Charles shrugged. "We'll have to watch our step from now on, though," he said, taking a grateful swig of pumpkin juice. "Wish we could've gone up to the feast..."
"She didn't want us showing off," said Ron sagely. "Doesn't want people to think it's clever, arriving by a flying motorbike."
When they had eaten as many sandwiches as they could (the plate kept refilling itself) they rose and left the office, treading the familiar path to Gryffindor Tower. The castle was quiet; it seemed that the feast was over. They walked past muttering portraits and creaking suits of armor, and climbed narrow flights of stone stairs, until at last, they reached the passage where the secret entrance to Gryffindor Tower was hidden, behind an oil painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.
"Password?" she said as they approached.
"Um..."
They didn't know the new year's password, not having met a Gryffindor prefect yet, but help came almost immediately; they heard hurrying feet behind them and turned to see Hermione dashing toward them.
"There you are! Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors - someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying motorbike."
"Well, we haven't been expelled," Charles assured her.
"You're not telling me you did fly here?" said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.
"Skip the lecture," said Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new password."
"It's `wattlebird,"' said Hermione impatiently, "but that's not the point - "
Her words were cut short, however, as the portrait of the fat lady swung open and there was a sudden storm of clapping. It looked as though the whole of Gryffindor House was still awake, packed into the circular common room, standing on the lopsided tables and squashy armchairs, waiting for them to arrive. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Charles and Ron inside, leaving Hermione to scramble in after them.
"Brilliant!" yelled Lee Jordan. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a bike right into the Whomping Willow, people will be talking about that one for years-"
"Good for you," said a fifth-year Charles had never spoken to; someone was patting him on the back as though he'd just won a marathon; Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, "Why couldn't we've come on the bike, eh?"
Harry came over then. "Brilliant and all that, but are you hurt?"
Charles shook his head. "Fine."
Harry relaxed. "Well, get ready to deal with an irate Sirius. He's been working on another bike for a while, but that doesn't mean he'll forgive you easily, Charles. He loved Elvendork."
Charles winced and nodded. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that bit."
Ron was scarlet in the face, grinning embarrassedly, but Charles could see one person who didn't look happy at all. Percy was visible over the heads of some excited first years, and he seemed to be trying to get near enough to start telling them off. Charles nudged Ron in the ribs and nodded in Percy's direction. Ron got the point at once.
"Got to get upstairs - bit tired," he said, and the two of them started pushing their way toward the door on the other side of the room, which led to a spiral staircase and the dormitories.
"'Night," Charles called back to Hermione, who was wearing a scowl just like Percy's.
They managed to get to the other side of the common room, still having their backs slapped, and gained the peace of the staircase. They hurried up it, right to the top, and at last reached the door of their old dormitory, which now had a sign on it saying SECOND YEARS. They entered the familiar, circular room, with its five four-posters hung with red velvet and its high, narrow windows. Their trunks had been brought up for them and stood at the ends of their beds.
Ron grinned guiltily at Charles.
"I know I shouldn't've enjoyed that or anything, since, you know, Sirius and all, but-'
The dormitory door flew open and in came the other second-year Gryffindor boys, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and Neville Longbottom.
"Unbelievable!" beamed Seamus.
"Cool," said Dean.
"Amazing," said Neville, awestruck.
Charles couldn't help it. He grinned, too.